Beautiful
by WindowChild
Summary: All she wants is to feel beautiful, even if it's just for one day. Clarisse goes shopping for a wedding dress.


Beautiful.

Clarisse laid a pinky finger against wedding dress, shocked that anything so frilly could seem this flawless to her.

It was white, a gossamer skirt and puffed blouse. Absolutely gorgeous. She felt her mouth corners shimmy outward, her eyelids stretch a little higher. It was shocking, really.

At first, they hadn't wanted the floral, white wedding. They'd been to Percy and Annabeth's last summer, and had decided that the whole affair just wasn't for them. But then, something had changed. Chris's idea actually, even though it didn't seem like a thing he would suggest. Clarisse suspected that it had been for her, although he would deny it until the end of time. And so would she, for that matter, if anyone asked who had chosen the tablecloths with the pink embroidery.

But Chris had whispered to her, his eyelashes fluttering as he smiled, that maybe she would miss it if they didn't do it. If they eloped, it would be romantic certainly, but not something quite as memorable. Wouldn't she regret it, if they didn't have something that could be put into an album? Clarisse had scoffed and shook her head, consenting only when he was half-asleep and hardly listening. In truth, she did want to try her hand at glamour. She was only afraid that she would pull it back and find it empty.

This dress, though… It was more beautiful than the one Annabeth had worn, although she had silently decided that would never be possible.

Silena would be happy, she thought fiercely. She would be happy that Clarisse was finding something beautiful, wouldn't she? Yes, Clarisse thought, nearly stamping her foot. Silena loved everything beautiful.

Clarisse nearly trembled, taking the dress off of the rack. She could handle bikes and competitions, but fragile things were not for her. She worried that a single wrong move would upset it, turning the creation to dust.

She shook her head, her unkempt hair scratching at her cheeks. Gods, what would her siblings think of her? Getting worked up over a dress…

But still, holding the soft fabric in her hand, she wanted to wear it. She wanted to possess it, to hope that some of its magical qualities would be transposed to her. Sometimes, when she saw Annabeth or thought of Silena, she wondered what Chris saw in her. They were so pretty, with their slim waists and symmetrical features. What could he possibly love about someone so un-beautiful?

It wasn't an insecurity she allowed herself to dwell on often. After all, strength and intelligence were much more important the looks, she'd always said. It became hard, though, when one was surrounded by such pure prettiness.

She felt nearly frozen, deciding whether or not to try it on. It would be a death sentence, if she did. She would become too attached, and want to keep it forever. And if it looked wretched on her… she might not be able to stand it. At least, while it stayed in her hand, she could pretend that it would look just as beautiful on her as on Annabeth or Silena. Shutting her eyes and summoning her courage, she pulled it off of the hanger.

She would try it on.

She went into the dressing room, taking her time with every button and hook. What if she ripped it? Even as the thought crossed her mind, she felt a bit disgusted with herself. No child of Ares would ever be so careful around a stupid dress.

As she stepped out from behind the curtain, ready to step in front of the mirror, something snapped. For the first time in memory, bravery failed her. She couldn't bear the idea that it would be hideous. On this one day, this one day only, she wanted to look beautiful.

Just as she was taking deep breaths, deciding to go and change out of it, her cell phone rang.

"Hello?" she said abruptly, not even checking to see who it was.

"Hi." The soft, low voice made her smile all on its own.

"Hey Chris," she said, as casually as she could manage.

"So, are you in the bridal shop?"

"Oh uh, yeah," she said, as scornfully as possible.

"And –" he prompted, "What do you think? Any dresses?"

"I don't know," Clarisse said, her voice tight. "They're all so fluffy. Not me at all." She shut her eyes, praying to the gods that he'd buy it. He didn't, and she figured she should have known.

"Clarisse," he said, his voice going to an even gentler tone. "What's up?"

"Nothing!" she replied, a bit too instantaneously. "I'm just… I don't know, all of the silk is making me sick."

"Clarisse," he repeated, "What's wrong?"

She sighed, giving in. She could say it without having to sound so worked up, couldn't she? "It's just, I don't know, I want to look pretty. And I'm a-" She stopped herself, coming dangerously close to saying the word 'afraid'. Why should she be afraid of something so trivial? "I want to look pretty for you," she said, instead. "And I won't in any of these dresses."

"Clarisse," he said, for the third time. "You will look pretty for me no matter what you wear. You're pretty ever day. In fact, you're beautiful."

The denial was on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back. That was as if she cared.

"And," he continued (she could hear his smile), "It's okay to be afraid. I'm afraid too. This is a big step."

She couldn't argue without seeming like a bad person, so she let him end it there. She wanted to ask him why he loved her. She wanted to find out _for sure_ that he wouldn't leave her. But no, she couldn't do that either. That sounded too weak.

Hating herself, and her father a little bit, she spoke again. "I have to go, okay? I'm still browsing."

He was too smart for her, though. "If we're going to be married, you're going to have to trust me. Do you trust me?"

"Of course," she brushed off.

"No," Chris replied, steadily. "You don't say it like that. Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," Clarisse said. "I trust you."

"Okay, then tell me what's going on with you."

She took a deep breath, ashamed of the way she couldn't breathe. It felt hard, even telling him. "I can't look in the mirror," she whispered.

"What?" he whispered back, copying her soft pitch.

"I can't do it. What if I'm hideous?" She shook herself, to rid herself of these stupid fears, but they didn't go anywhere.

"Wait, you haven't even looked yet?" Chris asked.

"No," she said.

"Well, look! You'll never know until you do." There was a long pause. "I'll even stay on the phone with you."

Slowly, very slowly, Clarisse turned. She didn't announce that she was, just in case she _did _look hideous. That way she wouldn't have to tell him. It did feel better though, knowing that he was right there. She wasn't so scared to face herself.

"I'm – I'm okay," she said, honestly. In truth, she did not feel completely beautiful. But the dress did help, and it was a step in that direction.

"I'm sure you're gorgeous," Chris said, so gently that she could have almost believed him.

"No," she said. "But thank you. That's why I love you." Like everything she said, it was dry and almost grouchy sounding. Chris knew she meant it, though, and that's what mattered.

"You're beautiful," Chris said. "Believe it. And if you don't, I guess you'll just have to wait five months and six days for me to convince you."

"Five months and six days?"

"I booked the hall. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Clarisse replied, "That's fine."

"We're getting married, Clarisse. Can you believe it?"

"No," she whispered, an ambiguous pain at the back of her throat. "I can't."

"I love you," he whispered.

"Love you too." She shut her phone, furious with everyone and everything. Sometimes she hated to be tough. Sometimes she would have traded all of the strength in the world, just to feel a little beautiful.


End file.
